Jason's words hung in the air, creating tense silence throughout the command center.
T'Challa stood beside him, watchful and thoughtful.
Shuri's brow furrowed as she considered his philosophical argument. "I never expected to discover you harboring idealistic tendencies."
Jason shook his head with a rueful smile. "I merely wish to highlight the futility of your approach. Massacring civilians neither achieves meaningful vengeance nor addresses root causes."
He gestured toward the holographic displays tracking the vampire outbreak. "Those truly responsible for Wakanda's suffering likely evacuated when the crisis began. They shelter in fortified bunkers beyond your reach, protected by wealth and privilege."
His voice hardened with conviction. "When this disaster concludes—regardless of outcome—these same elites will emerge unscathed to reassert control. Moreover, they will orchestrate devastating retaliation against you and all of Wakanda."
Shuri's lips curled into a mocking smile. "You're guiding me toward targeted assassination, then?"
"No," Jason responded firmly. "I'm asking you to cease this indiscriminate slaughter of innocents."
T'Challa seized the opening. "Shuri, please listen! End this bloodshed now—I'll take you home. I swear no harm will come to you under my protection!"
Shuri shook her head with sad finality. Her mouth opened slightly, revealing elongated vampire fangs. "T'Challa, certain paths permit no return. No power in this world can protect me now."
"Yes! Yes, I can!" T'Challa insisted desperately.
Without further response, Shuri's physical form suddenly disintegrated—exploding into countless bats that scattered throughout the chamber in chaotic flight patterns.
Simultaneously, the black-robed figure cursed under his breath before launching toward the exit with supernatural speed.
Jason observed their synchronized escape attempt with detached amusement. "Fleeing? Is that truly your best option?"
With casual hand gesture, Jason created two transparent spatial constructs that instantly trapped both the swarm of bats and the black-robed figure. T'Challa watched with undisguised amazement as Jason effortlessly contained beings of tremendous supernatural power.
The captured bats frantically circled within their dimensional prison, seeking nonexistent exit points. The black-robed figure launched furious physical assaults against his containment field—the membrane distorting under each impact but refusing to rupture.
Eventually, both captives recognized the futility of resistance. The swarm of bats came back together into Shuri's humanoid form as the black-robed figure ceased his escape attempts.
"Please don't waste energy on futile resistance," Jason advised with clinical detachment. "Escape remains impossible."
Both prisoners regarded Jason with stunned recognition of his true capabilities. Shuri wielded combined powers of darkness and vampiric essence, while her ally commanded celestial energies. Yet Jason's seemingly effortless containment fields proved impervious to their most determined efforts.
Shuri instantly reevaluated her assessment of the man before her. Despite his established reputation as global savior, she now realized he deliberately concealed the true extent of his capabilities.
The black-robed figure had assumed Jason's position as regional deity stemmed from opportunistic exploitation of dimensional vulnerabilities during Hell's retreat rather than inherent power. This fundamental miscalculation now became painfully evident.
Jason offered them a resigned smile. "Since conventional dialogue proves ineffective, perhaps alternative approaches might yield results."
He turned toward Shuri first. "Out of respect for T'Challa, I present two options. First: death. Second: permanent confinement within Wakanda's borders—never to step beyond them again."
Shuri responded with contemptuous laughter. "Kill me if you wish, but prepare for the consequences. My death triggers automatic frenzy within every vampire I've created. Tens of millions of infected Americans will instantly descend into uncontrolled bloodlust. You cannot eliminate them all simultaneously."
Jason shrugged with remarkable indifference. "Do you expect this threat to force compromise? Even if every American dies, my position remains unchanged."
His voice carried absolute certainty. "You can command your forces to continue slaughtering civilians, but understand this: should retaliatory nuclear strikes target Wakanda, I will not intervene."
Shuri's eyes narrowed dangerously. "How can you maintain claims of heroism after such declarations?"
"'Hero' remains an empty designation given by others," Jason responded without emotion. "I protect this reality not to prevent individual death, but to ensure civilization's continuation and development."
His eyes met hers with unflinching intensity. "Humanity survives without America. Humanity survives without Wakanda."
Shuri's jaw clenched as internal conflict played across her features. Despite her transformation, the fundamental love for her homeland remained unchanged.
Having addressed Shuri, Jason turned toward the black-robed figure. "You serve the North American deity."
His voice carried absolute certainty. "Of all celestial entities I've encountered, North American deity demonstrates unparalleled cruelty. What motivates your participation in this vampire apocalypse and massacre of your faithful?"
The black-robed figure appeared momentarily shocked before erupting into bitter laughter. " North American deity? What absurd assumption! I would never serve such pretenders!"
His voice dropped to reverent whisper. "My Lord is the Supreme Dark Lord—a divine entity from realms beyond your comprehension..."
Jason extended his index finger toward the figure without verbal response.
Instantly, the black robe disintegrated into particles, revealing the figure's true nature. The celestial energy concealment mechanisms implanted within his form destabilized, holy light erupting uncontrollably from his physical vessel.
Two magnificent white wings appeared behind him—his angelic essence now undeniable.
Deep silence descended upon the chamber.
Jason created a floating spherical device with lens-like aperture. "Please, smile for the audiance. This recording will inform humanity about the North American deity's conspiracy with the Vampire Queen to destroy Earth's population."
Rage twisted the angel's features as he beat his wings furiously. A concentrated beam of holy light erupted from his palm, targeting the recording device—only to vanish midway to its destination, intercepted by Jason's spatial manipulation.
Recognizing his complete powerlessness against Jason's capabilities, the angel's expression shifted to impotent hatred. "My actions remain distinct from my God's directives! The North American deity dispatched me to assess terrestrial conditions and prepare humanitarian intervention."
The angel's voice conveyed desperate self-justification. "I falsified intelligence reports and deceived the North American deity regarding the situation's severity. The North American deity absence stems from my deception rather than callous disregard."
He continued with increasing desperation. "My hatred toward humanity represents personal sentiment. My vampire collaboration constitutes individual initiative rather than divine mandate!"
Jason responded with dismissive shrug. "Your explanation lacks minimal credibility—no rational people would accept such transparent lie."
His expression turned thoughtful. "I could help preserve this narrative if you wish to test whether Earth's population demonstrates the same gullibility as paradise-bound souls, but first satisfy my curiosity—what corrupted your conscience so thoroughly that you willingly serve such tyranny?"
The angel maintained stubborn silence.
His existence had previously known only peace—Heaven's tranquility had persisted for millennia, with regional deities engaging in mere verbal disagreements rather than open conflict. He had resigned himself to immortal boredom.
Then came Hell's unexpected invasion.
As his companions died in succession around him, cracks formed in his previously unshakable conviction. The concepts of life, death, justice, and evil blurred into confusing abstractions.
When his deity promised that a single morally questionable action could secure lasting celestial peace, the angel consented without hesitation.
Before his terrestrial mission began, he never anticipated the catastrophic scale of suffering his actions would cause. Yet having initiated this course, reversal seemed impossible.
Now, confronted with inevitable judgment, only one option remained.
The angel regarded Jason, T'Challa, and Shuri with silent resignation before channeling his remaining celestial essence. Blinding light erupted from his physical form.
Jason recognized the angel's suicidal intent but made no effort to intervene. The outcome held little significance—the broader conflict had reached its inevitable conclusion.
Europe and North America's celestial domains lay in ruins, Heaven effectively under his control.
Divine politics had reached their endgame.